


Eyes Always Seeking

by avintagekiss24



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Dark, Biker Bucky Barnes, Black Character(s), Dark, Dubious Consent, F/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, biker bar, dark bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-05-31 05:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avintagekiss24/pseuds/avintagekiss24
Summary: You head out into the middle of nowhere Texas to see your brother Sam, but end up getting into more than what you originally bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a tumblr dark!character challenge, the prompt is in bold. It's my first go with dub-con/non-con, so as usual with everything I post, I'm nervous, lol. As always, you guys can catch me on tumblr at avintagekiss24.

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes scan the neon sign out front. Your windshield wipers dispel the water droplets that dribble across it as an old country song plays softly from your radio. You jump slightly as the loud roar of approaching Harley’s cracks through the still night. You grip the steering wheel with your hands, turning slightly in your seat to watch the pack of motorcycles pull into the parking lot. Big, gruff, bearded men, covered in tattoos and leather, disembark from their metal steeds and move inside the bar, their heavy boots scraping across the gravel lot. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, praying that you don’t get murdered tonight. You remove yourself from your car, jogging slightly as a few raindrops still fall from the passing storm. You move inside the bar, loud metal music hitting you in the face as soon as the door opens. Your dark eyes instantly start scanning the crowd as you clutch your jean jacket to your chest.

“Sis! Over here!”

Sam’s voice pulls your head left and you smile as soon as your eyes land on his cheerful face. He stands, his hands extended out as you walk toward him, falling into his chest, “Brother.”

“Baby sister! It’s been too long, city girl.” He kisses your forehead.

“You shouldn’t have moved out to bum-fuck. We could see each other more.” You smile back, your eyes still scanning the rough group around you, “I mean, this is certainly a change.”

Your brother was once a financial advisor, a partner at his firm. He drove an Audi, wore Armani suits on Saturdays, and wouldn’t leave the house without at least six or seven hundred dollars in cash, just in case something came up. A year ago, he gave it all up; quit his job, sold his car, and bought a farm in bum fuck Texas. He made new friends too, one’s who frequent the hell hole your currently standing in. 

His laughter fills your ears. At least that hasn’t changed, “Stop lookin’ like that. You’re fine.”

“I feel like I’m gonna be lynched if I’m not careful.”

“Stop!” He laughs, bringing his beer to his lips, “You’re such a racist.”

Your mouth drops open as you push your finger into your chest, “I’m the racist? Really? They’ve probably never seen real black people in their lives!”

He shrugs, “They don’t bother me and I’ve been coming here for a year. Sit down, shut up, and drink your beer, yuppie.”

You soon relax, as much as you can anyway, and share a few beers with your brother. You speak about your parents, off in Europe for the summer, your job, which you hate, and your love life, nonexistent. Sam’s met a pretty little farmer, Wanda, who’ll be joining the two of you in a while. You’re happy for him. He really seems happy. 

You’re on your fourth beer, spinning it slowly on the wooden table as drops of condensation slide down the neck of the bottle. Sam jokes and laughs with an older man, his long beard braided down to his bellybutton, chains hanging from his black leather vest. 

“Sam Wilson, how the fuck are you?” 

A new voice sounds from behind your brother, causing you both to turn toward it. Your lips part slightly as your eyes widen at the sight of this new man. He’s young, probably your age, his long dark hair pulled back into a low bun, loose tendrils falling around his face. He’s dressed in a leather jacket, black shirt and dark jeans, heavy boots covering his feet. Tattoos slither up his neck, a single gold earring hangs from his earlobe. His square chin and jaw is covered in a light stubble as he slaps hands with your brother and pulls him into a hug.

“Bucky Barnes. Long time no see.” Sam turns slightly, nudging you with his arm, “This is my baby sister.”

When the stranger shifts his eyes to you, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You push hair behind your ear, dropping your eyes from him to the floor, your nerves making you laugh lightly. You flick your eyes back up to him to find him still staring at you, his face set seriously. You look away again. Something about him make you nervous.

“You got a name?” He asks after a second, his voice low.

You nod quickly, tucking more hair behind your ear, “Yeah, um, S-Sao-Saoirse.” You keep nodding, “Saoirse.”

He quirks his eyebrow, dropping his chin slightly, peering at you through his dark eyelashes, “Saorise?”

“Mom and dad found out they were pregnant with her while vacationing in Ireland.” Sam adds, smirking at you, “But, just like her name, she’s a real weirdo.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” You scoff, swatting at his arm and rolling your eyes. 

Bucky lets his eyes linger on you for a second or two more, before finally shifting his gaze back to your brother. You drop your head, letting out air from between your teeth as you pick at the label on your beer bottle. Heat rises in your cheeks as you shift again, suddenly more nervous than you had been all night. You glance up again and catch his eyes on you, staring at you with no emotion on his face or in his eyes. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as your lips part again. Sam and a few others talk and laugh around the two of you, Bucky using their distraction to size you up. His piercing gaze drops from your face to your exposed legs as you sit with them crossed. He drags his eyes slowly up the length of your legs and licks his lips, his head cocking to the side. You push your hands down to your knees and calves, trying to cover them as much as you can. You clear your throat, moving your eyes around the bar again, hoping someone will pull his attention away from you. 

You can’t help but slide your eyes back to him after a few seconds. He’s graduated up to your chest, not giving a damn that he’s making you uncomfortable. You move in your seat again, letting out a shaky breath as you pull the lapels of your jean jacket over one another. You’re suddenly cursing your choice of outfit, a low cut mustard yellow sundress, the one that if course barely covers your ass when you stand. If you lean forward enough, your breasts are on full display, if not spilling out of the garment entirely.

A devilish smile curls on his face as he snaps his eyes back up to yours. He rolls his head to the opposite side of his neck, the quick flash of humanity he showed falling from his face. Despite his eyes being a brilliant blue, there’s nothing but darkness in them as he ogles you. They dip to your chest again, his tongue farting out to sweep across his bottom lip. His mouth drops open and he presses his tongue against the back of his teeth. Slowly, provocatively, he sticks his tongue out, licking his upper lip as he gawks at you. You stand from the wooden barstool quickly, pulling at the bottom of your dress, pretending to not feel his cold stare on you.

“You okay?” Sam asks, turning his body toward you.

“Yeah, yeah, I just uh,” You stammer, “I just need the bathroom.”

Sam points toward the back of the bar and you take off without another word, clasping your jacket shut as move through people. You slam the rickety bathroom door behind you and lean up against it, closing your eyes and tilting your head toward the ceiling. You wave your hand at your face, trying to create some sort of quick breeze to cool you down. You start to shake as sweat prickles on the surface of your skin, _ holy shit _ .

You push away from the door and turn on the faucet, running your hands underneath the stream of water. You pat your face and neck with your wet fingers and dab at your skin with a paper towel before taking a step back to eye your reflection. You button up your jacket, covering your cleavage completely, and tuck more hair behind your ears. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, and reach for the door, pulling it open. You take a step or two before two hands grab you from behind. Within a second, you’re slammed up against the opposite wall, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. 

Your mouth drops open as you stare back into the all too familiar pair of eyes of Bucky Barnes. You breathe heavily, your body starting to shake again as he places a hand by your head on the wall behind you. He doesn’t speak. He just stares at you, his lips ever so slightly quirked up in a smirk as his eyes travel up and down your face. He’s so close his nose brushes against yours, his hot, beer laden breath washing over your face. 

He pulls back just enough to bring his beer to his lips. You let out audible breaths as he takes a swig of the cool liquid, his eyelids low as he keeps his eyes on you. He licks his lips once he’s finished, leaning back into you, his stubble brushing against your chin as he pins you to the wall. 

“Saoirse.” Your name comes out slow and heavy.

You close your eyes, nodding as you swallow hard, “Yes.”

Bucky brings the beer back to his mouth, taking another drink. He turns his head to glance back at your table, Sam mostly, before bringing his full attention back to you. He brings his hand up and grabs some of your hair, running his fingers through it before playing with the ends. Fear rises in your chest as you break eye contact with him to stare over his shoulder. He leans in, pushing your head to the right with his nose as he takes a deep breath, filling his nostrils with your perfume and shampoo.

“You smell nice.”

You swallow again, your stomach rising into your throat as your breath becomes quick and harsh, “Th-thank you.”

He spreads your legs with his knee, pushing his lower half into yours as his fingers leave your hair. He drops his index finger to your chin before dragging it down your neck and chest before hooking it into your jacket. He lifts his eyes back toward yours, and smiles again. You blink furiously, your lip quivering as tears threaten to splash against your cheeks. 

“Aww,” He coos condescendingly, “What’s wrong sugar?” You drop your head as much as you can, but his finger catches your chin, pushing it up harshly, “You don’t have manners? Answer me.”

“ **You’re scaring me** .” You croak, your voice choppy and rushed as your lips tremble.

A tear makes it escape, sliding down your cheek slowly as you do everything you can to avoid eye contact with him. He cocks his head again and bites his bottom lip as another smile breaks onto his face.  _ He’s enjoying this.  _ He chuckles before humming quickly in happiness. He swipes at the tear with his thumb, brushing it away in one swift motion before running his calloused hand down your cheek. He grabs your chin and squeezes, forcing your head back straight so you can look at him. You whimper, and you swear you feel his dick twitch against your thigh. 

“Yo Buck! How about a game of pool, huh?”

He snaps his head toward the voice and you take the opportunity to slide out from him. You walk quickly back to the table occupying your none-the-wiser brother, wrapping your arms around your waist, keeping your head down. 

You grab your keys and start for the door, but Sam grabs your wrist, “Hey, hey, where you goin’?”

You force a smile on your face, glancing up at him, hoping your watery eyes don’t give you away, “I’m kinda tired, Sam.”

“Oh, come on, it’s early still! Wanda isn’t even here yet, I want you to meet her.”

“I can meet her in the morning. I  _ am  _ staying the weekend, you know.” You answer quickly, shifting your eyes toward Bucky, who know leans over a pool table. He stands up straight, lighting a cigarette before he catches your gaze, “Sam, please.”

Your brothers dark eyes bounce between yours, his forehead crunching as he squints, “Are you okay?”

You smile wider, trying to convince him. Your eyes dart to Bucky, then back to Sam, “Yes.”

He turns away from you, his eyes scanning the people around you, “Did someone touch you? I swear to fuck, I’ll-”

“Sam, I’m fine.” You reassure him, ignoring the constant leer of your unwanted companion, “I’ll see you back at your place, ok?”

Sam squints again but finally relents, leaning in and kissing your check, “Text me when you get there?”

You smile, moving out of Bucky’s eye line, “Of course.”

You move back outside, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you head straight to your car. You’re almost there, pulling out the hand that grasps your keys. You hear the door click as it unlocks, and you reach for the door handle, feeling the metal under your fingertips. You stop, closing your eyes as a cool Texas breeze whips around you. You let out a breath, then suck in some air again. It’s only then do you realize the dampness between your legs. 

You open your eyes, staring over the top of your car into the dim lit parking lot. You shift and squeeze your thighs together, a sharp jolt of electricity shooting through you. The fear in your chest, your shaky limbs, your dry mouth ass start to confuse you as the symptoms twist and turn into something else. This is  _ arousal _ . The ghost feeling of his stubble on your skin makes your stomach tighten as your clit begins to ache. The rough denim of his jeans that rubbed against the inside of your thigh as he pinned you to the wall with his body makes your chest swell with lust and panic. 

The entire scene was oddly  _ erotic _ . His hot beer breath, his hand squeezing your face, the tears that threatened to spill… you’d never felt this way before. You’ve never had attention  _ forced _ on you before. In the moment, it was terrifying but now? You’re body obviously doesn’t seem to mind. 

You shake your head, pushing the thoughts away as you try and snap back to your senses. This isn’t right. What happened to you in there, wasn’t right. You shouldn’t feel this way. You flush with embarrassment, feeling it in the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You feel dirty for even entertaining it. 

You pull on the door handle, pulling it open when suddenly, you’re violently pushed back into it. You’re whipped around, coming face to face with your attacker. You struggle against him, slapping and pushing, but to no avail. He grabs your hands and pins them to behind you to your car, his large hand clasping both your wrists.

“I’m gonna scream Bucky!” You warn, “I mean it!”

“The fuck you will.” He hisses, grabbing your chin. 

Audible breaths fall from your mouth as your eyes bounce wildly between his. You don’t scream. You just stand there, pinned up against your car panic swells in your chest. Bucky peers back at you for a few seconds, before crashing his lips to yours. You groan loudly, trying to turn your head from side to side to get away from his invasive mouth. He pulls you from the car before he slams you back into it with a thud, pushing his leg between yours once more as you scream tightly. 

He pulls back with a loud smack, leaving your mouth open as you drag in deep breaths of air. Your lips are swollen from the hard kiss, wetness splashing against your thighs as your arousal grows from the terror. Bucky stares back at you, a wild, dangerous look in his eye. He drops his line of sight to your jacket before lifting his eyes back to you, his own breath ragged as his chest rises and falls a little harder and faster. He tightens his grip on your hands before reaching up to violently rip open your jacket, the small silver buttons falling to the ground as they break. 

He digs his hand into the top of your dress, pushing his fingers along your skin until they graze over your thick nipple. You hiss as he pinches the thick skin harshly, slamming your eyes shut as the sudden pain rips through you. He brings his hot mouth to your neck, sucking on your skin as his tongue darts out to lick at you. 

He bites down without warning, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You push your hips into his as you let out a long, fluid moan.You bite your bottom lip as you begin to grind your hips against his thigh, your clit throbbing at the sensation of the denim. Bucky pulls back again, pulling your weight from the car and dragging you to the passengers side so he can keep his eye on the door of the bar.

He pushes you back against the car, grabbing your thigh and lifting it to crane your leg around his hip. His fingers reach underneath your dress, skimming along your soaked satin panties, another chuckle rumbling through his chest, “So fucking wet baby.” He mumbles. 

He pulls the pale blue underwear from your waist harshly, ripping them totally. He stuffs the remnants of the material into his back pocket before unbuttoning his jeans, pulling his hard cock free. He slams into you without warning. You cry out, craning your head toward the sky as you throw your hands around his neck and shoulders to help steady yourself. Bucky covers your mouth with his hand, silencing you as he pulls out and slams back into you again. 

“Don’t make a fucking sound. Hear me?”

His pace is fast and unforgiving as you groan into the palm of his hand. You bounce with his rhythm, your back sliding up and down the door of your car as he fucks you. You hold tightly onto his leather jacket as he leans into you, scratching at your jawline with his teeth. He sinks his teeth into your neck again and not even his palm can stifle the sound that erupts from you. It’s low and guttural, almost animalistic as the pain shoots through you. 

The sound draws a scratchy grunt from Bucky, his hand slipping from your mouth and up into your hair, “Didn’t I tell you to keep your filthy mouth shut?” He asks, pulling your hair roughly.

You stifle the scream that scratches at your throat from the pain that prickles in your scalp. His hips continue to push into you, rough and fast, his thickness spreading and stretching your muscles as you feel each thrust in your stomach. A hand wraps around your neck, putting pressure on your airway as the other slinks around your waist. His fingernails scratch at your skin as he digs his digits into your flesh, squeezing so hard that you know you’ll have bruises after.

You feel dizzy; chills flood your body as your release begins to build. Jolts of electricity bounce within your stomach, your muscles tightening and flexing with every stroke. You dig your fingers into the leather of his jacket as tears slide down your cheeks from the force of his hips. He rocks into you again and your orgasm erupts, coursing through you with reckless abandon. 

Your clit pulses as your walls clench around him. Liquid drips down your thighs as you come and splashes on the gravel below your foot. Within seconds, Bucky spurts into you, filling your sex with hot, white ribbons of his seed. He falls against you, the stubble on his cheeks cutting into your face and neck as you both breathe heavily. 

You stand motionless, Bucky still buried to his hilt in your wetness, your leg still thrown around his hip. You stare out onto the parking lot, the gravity of what just happened heating your skin. Your hands fall to your sides as he leans back, removing his weight from your body. He pulls out of you unceremoniously and tucks himself back into his jeans, dropping your leg. You link eyes with him, your face hot with embarrassment and shame, your limbs shaky as he peers back at you. 

Without a word, he walks off back toward the bar, digging into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out with his teeth, stopping and turning slightly as he lifts his hands to cover the tip with one and flicking open his gold lighter with the other. Another tear slips down your cheek as you watch him, frozen in your fear as he lights the cigarette. He cuts his eyes back toward you, expels a puff of smoke, and then turns away, moving back inside the bar. 

You clutch your jacket in your fingers, covering your chest as you hurry back to the drivers side and fall into the seat. You slam the door closed and grip the steering wheel with both hands as water floods your eyes. You let out deliberate, shaky breaths as your vision tunnels in front of you. You close your eyes, flexing your fingers as you try and calm down. 

_ So fucking wet, baby. _

Your eyes pop back open. You squeeze your legs together. A jolt of electricity shoots through you. You bite your bottom lip as you blink slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven’t been able to keep your mind off of one Bucky Barnes since your initial meeting. You want him again. You need him again. Then, just like magic, he appears in your brother’s backyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me forever, but here's part 2

“There she is.” Wanda’s warm voice floats toward you as you step into the kitchen, “Good morning.”

You smile back at her, crossing your arms over your chest as you pad toward the kitchen table. You fall into one of the chairs and bury your face into your hands and the cuffs of your sweater before smoothing your messy hair off your forehead. Your body is sore. Your joints, your muscles, your skin; it all hurts. Your eyes burn and your head spins as fragmented images of the night before flash before your eyes. You can still feel his rough fingers on your hips. 

Your heart drops to your stomach at the thought of him. Bucky Barnes. You vision tunnels into the corner of the room as Wanda’s voice fades away from you. You can smell him, almost as if he’s standing in the room with you right this moment. He was a tantalizing mixture of cigarette smoke, cheap beer, and musky cologne. You shiver as the feeling of his prickly beard scraping against your jaw and neck washes through you. You squeeze your legs together. 

Embarrassment flashes through you as your body begins to react. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should be angry at what happened to you, terrified at the very least. But, as you sit here, you slowly realize that this is what turns you on. The  _ fear _ . The powerlessness that consumed you when he ripped your jacket from your torso. The adrenaline that coursed through your veins when he craned your leg around his hip. 

You miss him. You were ashamed to admit it, it almost made you sick to. You miss the fullness that his cock brought your aching body. You miss the feeling of his black leather jacket balled in your hands as he fucked you up against your car. You swallow hard, slamming your eyes closed as you take a deep breath. Something is wrong with you. He  _ assaulted  _ you, in plain sight of a hundred bikers, your brother, and the good lord himself - and you can’t wait to see him again. 

“Here,” Wanda says, snapping you out of your daze as she slides a cup of coffee toward you, “This’ll help with that hangover.”

You reach for the mug, a smile on your face as your overly large sweater slips off your shoulder. Wanda’s big eyes widen slightly as she reaches for your arm, “Oh honey, that’s a nasty bruise.”

You grab at the sweater quickly, pulling it back up over your shoulder as you laugh nervously, “I was so drunk last night, I ran right into the freakin’ door jam when coming out of the bathroom. Hurt like a mother fucker.”

“What hurt like a mother fucker?” Sam asks as he moves into the kitchen, the back door slamming shut behind him.

He moves to Wanda, wrapping his arms around her waist as he kisses her on the cheek. She points toward you before resting her hands on his arms, “She’s got a nasty bruise on her shoulder. Said he ran into the door jam last night.”

Sam chuckles as he removes himself from the smaller woman, “Pushing thirty and you still can’t walk and think at the same time. Bravo.”

You flip him off, “Fuck you.”

“Oooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He quips.

“What can I say, I learned from you big brother.”

Wanda laughs as she turns back toward the stove, flipping the frying bacon, “You two make me miss Pietro.”

“Pietro?” You ask, sipping on your black coffee.

“Twin brother,” Sam answers, “I told you to invite him out. He can stay as long as he wants.” Wanda opens her mouth but Sam stops her, holding up his hands, “I know, I know, he don’t like Texas.”

You finish your coffee and scarf down the hearty breakfast that Wanda prepared. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon until her pesto eggs and cinnamon toast were slid in your direction. You giggled as the three of you sat and ate, Wanda giving Sam a ration of shit for not properly stalling the horses, for leaving the cows out to pasture for far too long, and for forgetting to corral the chickens. You cut your eyes toward him over your glass of orange juice and watch him nearly cower, a dopey grin on his face as he shrugs and delivers a lame ass excuse. He’s happy and obviously smitten, and that makes you smile. 

You excuse yourself once you’ve helped with the dishes and snuck back up to your bathroom. You grab a towel from underneath the sink and start the shower, slowly undressing as steam begins to fill the small bathroom. You bite your lip as you look over your battered body, your heartbeat beginning to pound in your ears. Red welts and scratches cover your chest and arms, blue and red bruises splashed on your brown skin. You hiss as you brush your fingers over the deep blue bruise forming in the nook of your neck and shoulder. 

You can still see his teeth marks. 

He’s branded you. 

You shiver at the thought. Your pussy clenches as an ache begins to sting your clit. God, you fucking miss him. No other man has ever made you feel this way, made you  _ want  _ them this way. You blink a few times, trying to calm yourself down before grabbing a hair tie and pulling your hair into a bun. You pull on a shower cap, not having the energy to wash your hair, and step underneath the hot stream of water. You close your eyes instantly and let the water wash over you. You roll your head back and forth slowly, ignoring the slight sting as it beats down on your damaged skin, and let it soothe your tight, sore muscles.

You push your hands along your neck, rubbing gently before you tilt your face toward the ceiling again. You rest your hand on your chest, feeling thump of your heart quicken as the wicked thoughts of your new biker friend returns. The ache between your legs intensifies as your pussy begins to lubricate itself from the memories of his hands busting the buttons of your jacket. You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping as your nipples harden at the memory of him rolling them between his fingers. 

You push your hand between your breasts and down your stomach, running your fingers over the bruises he caused by digging his fingers into your flesh so roughly. You lift your left leg and rest your foot on the edge of the tub, pushing your hips forward slightly. You spread yourself open with your left hand, strings of your wetness clinging to your lips. You push your fingers to your clit, rubbing slowly as your mouth drops open from the sensation. 

You thrust your hips into your hand as you tease yourself, dipping your fingers into your cunt before pulling them out to continue stroking your swollen clit. You hiss as your fingers quicken against your flesh, rubbing fast circles. You sink your fingers into your pussy again, pushing them in and out as you use your free hand to massage your clit. Your eyes close to slits as you try to remember the feeling of his rough stubble against your cheek. 

Your walls constrict as you hook your fingers inside of you to hit your spot. You moan, dropping your head as your orgasm builds, pure adrenaline and lust coursing through your veins. You buck your hips, imagining the denim of his jeans scraping against your thigh, his hot breath washing over your face as he pounded into you. You remember yourself squirting all over your thighs and onto the ground from his unforgiving thrusts. 

You come, hard, as the hot water cascades over you. You whimper as you buck your hips against your furious fingers, your pussy constricting tightly as your orgasm rips through you. You continue to rub circles against your clit as it quakes and jumps with your release. You spread your lips open again, hissing loudly as the hot water beats down on your sensitive nub. You slap your sex through the water as you continue to come, trying to stretch the feeling as long as possible. 

You squirt again, your moans growing louder as it bounces off of the walls. You push your hips forward as your slap and rub your sex through another wave of your orgasm. Your fingers start to slow as the minutes pass, your release finally beginning to recede. You lick your lips as a slow smile spreads on your face as you continue to massage yourself slowly, your fingers sticky with cum. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, pushing air out through your teeth as you start to relax. 

You giggle softly, your legs and arms turning to jelly as a shiver racks through your body. You wash quickly as post-orgasm sleepiness starts to spread through you. You step out, wrap up in the warm, fuzzy towel and traipse back into your room, closing the door behind you. You fall on the bed, rolling over onto your back and stare up at the ceiling fan as it twirls slowly. Your mind is still, your body satisfied -  _ for now _ \- your heart calm. You fall asleep to the sound of him saying your name over and over and over again. 

_ Saoirse. Saoirse. Saoirse.  _

_ Awww, what’s wrong sugar? _

Mumbled voices from outside break into your subconscious. You roll away from the window, grabbing your pillow and placing it over your head to try and drown out the sound of loud talking and laughing. There’s a thumping from downstairs, like someone is moving around in the kitchen before the back door opens and slams shut. You sigh deeply, not ready to rejoin the living quite yet. 

You try and tune out Sam’s loud ass laugh as he hoots and hollers from just outside of your window it sounds. You lean up as your skin prickles from the air conditioning, and slip underneath the comforter, pulling it up to your chin. You’re just about to fall back asleep when your brother’s voice floats toward you again. 

_ That shit ain’t right Bucky! You ain’t right for that! _

Your eyes pop open at the sound of his name. You sit up, clutching the sheets to your chest as you turn your head back toward the window. You stare out into the distance as your mouth falls open, your breath becoming shallow. 

_ I’m telling you man, that girl slipped me something. I swear! _

Your heart leaps at the sound of his voice. Bucky! You slide toward the edge of the bed and stand, grabbing the discarded towel from the end of the mattress as you move toward the window. You stand to the side, trying to stay out of sight as you peer through the small pane of glass. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you spot him below. He smiles widely as he listens to Sam recount some old story. He’s dressed casually, just as he was the night before. Tight black jeans, loose black t shirt, and that old black leather jacket. 

His dark hair is loose and wavy, some of it pulled back to keep it from falling into his face. He tilts his head toward the sky as he downs his beer, throwing the glass bottle into an old barrel before he moves to the cooler to grab another. You turn away from the scene below and lean against the wall as your mind begins to race. You push away from the wall, damn near running to the other side of the bed to grab your suitcase. You toss it on the bed and rummage through it, throwing around random articles of clothing until you find what you’re looking for. 

You settle on a tight pair of jean shorts, the ones where your ass cheeks hang out of the bottom of them with little to no effort at all. You pull a pink halter top over your bare breasts before grabbing your makeup bag and running into the bathroom. You work quickly, doing your best to cover you scratches and bruises before applying your favorite lip gloss as you pucker them. You keep your eye shadow light, applying a quick layer, before you push your diamond studs into your ears. 

You play with your hair, trying to get it just right, before getting frustrated and pulling it up into a high bun. You let a few strands fall around your face, turning your head from side to side as you pick at it. You didn’t pay five hundred dollars for these bundles to have them betray you like this, but then again, you should have sucked it up and washed the shit. After precious minutes tick by, you give up, semi approving of the quick up-do. 

You spritz on some perfume and head for the stairs, skipping down them and turning into the kitchen. Wanda is hard at work, stirring a large bowl of potato salad before she glances up and greets you with a smile, “I came to check on you earlier but you were fast asleep.”

“Yeah,” You smile back as you let out a sigh, throwing your eyes toward the screen door, “I think the drive and all the drinking finally caught up to me.”

“I hope those loud ass boys didn’t wake you. Impromptu barbecues are famous around here.” She laughs, turning on her heel to tend to the pot of beans on the stove, “Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving. You need any help?” You ask, praying that she’ll say no so that you can get outside. 

She waves you off, “No, no. You’re a guest here, go grab yourself a beer and relax. It’s beautiful outside.”

You’re out the back door before she can even finish her sentence. The gaggle of men turn toward the sound of the door slamming shut and you dip your head, shoving your hands into your back pockets as you move toward your brother. 

“I thought you were asleep.” Sam calls, squinting his eyes as you approach. He remembers your tricks when you were kids. He remembers every pair of booty shorts you just happened to be wearing when his friends were around. 

“I was, your loud ass woke me.”

“Your voice does carry, Sam.” A short, slightly older man laughs, holding his beer to his lips.

“Nobody asked you, Clint. Thank you.” Sam answers, watching as you move up next to him, “Clint, Bruce, this is my baby sister Saoirse.” They greet you warmly, holding out their hands and smiling, “You remember Bucky from last night, yeah?”

You slide your eyes toward the object of your desire, shoving your hands into your back pockets again as you jut out your hip slightly, “Of course. Nice to see you again, Bucky.”

He nods his head toward you, his ice blue eyes staring at you for a quick second before he glances off and takes another sip of his beer. You swallow, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment more before you pretend to listen as the conversation strikes up again. Something’s off. It feels strange, the energy, or lack thereof, between you. Last night, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, but today, it’s like you’re not even there. 

You grab a beer and laugh lightly as the boys continue to ham it up. You do everything possible to try and catch his attention. You push out your chest, you laugh at every one of his little quips and jokes, you find every reason on the planet to bend over in your shorts, knowing full well your ass in on display for him. He doesn’t even budge. Not a wink, not a glance, nothing. You’re invisible.

Anger starts to build inside your chest as you move away from the group, throwing your now empty beer into the barrell. You kick at the dirt, biting at your cheek as you glare at him from a few feet away.  _ Asshole _ . You know he can feel you staring at him, but the fucker doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps on laughing, keeps on hamming it up as he finishes off beer after beer.  _ How dare he.  _

You stomp back inside, huffing as the door slams shut behind you, “Need any help?” You ask, your voice low and full of frustration as you lean against the counter and fold your arms over your chest. 

Wanda quirks her eyebrow, a small smirk on her lips as she hands you the pot of beans, “You okay?”

“Fine.” You answer, turning and kicking open the door with your foot, “Fuckin’ food’s ready.” You call as you move down the steps.

Sam scrunches up his face as he glances over his shoulder at you, “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, just get the steaks off the grill, will you?” You answer curtly, turning and heading back inside. 

You make several trips with Wanda, setting out plates and drinks and the rest of the sides as the boys take their seats. You make one last trip, grabbing the roll of paper towels, salt, pepper, and butter, before you traipse back outside. You lean over the older, and for some reason nervous Bruce, your breasts lightly brushing his shoulder as you place the items on the wooden picnic table. 

He blushes, laughing nervously as you apologize and rest your hand on his shoulder, “Sorry ‘bout that.” You coo, smiling as you realize the effect you have on him. 

You settle down between Bruce and Clint, just opposite Wanda, Sam, and Bucky. You glance up as you reach for the beans and do a double take as you connect your dark eyes with Bucky’s blues. His lips are in a hard line as he stares at you, a hint of anger on his features. You roll your eyes and stand, reaching across Bruce again to scoop some beans in your plastic bowl. You make sure to brush up against the nervous man as much as possible and bend and stretch as far as you can to make sure Clint gets an eyeful of your ass as well. 

“You want some beans, Clint?” You ask sweetly, tossing your eyes back to him over your shoulder. 

You want to laugh as you catch the man staring at your ass, his mouth slightly open as his eyes grow wide. Sam kicks him under the table, leaning up as he sucks his teeth, “Eyes forward dickweed.”

Clint shakes his head as he rubs his shin, “Yes, please.” He answers after a second, clearing his throat, “Thank you Saoirse.”

You scoop a healthy helping into his bowl, your tits bouncing as you stir the beans. You pass his bowl back to him, and offer the same to Bruce, Sam, and Wanda. You plop down, staring at Bucky as you fail to offer him some and begin to pile your plate with potato salad, chips, and steak. You wiggle as close as you can to Bruce, keeping your attention solely on him as he talks about his work with the government. 

“Oh gosh,” You say, letting out a quick breath and a light giggle as you turn toward him, “That sounds so interesting. You know, I never had a head for science or numbers or anything like that. Not like Sam.”

“Pssh, I don’t have anything on this dude. Banner’s got like six PhD’s or something crazy.” Sam points out. 

“Seven.” Bruce shrugs before scratching at his scalp, “But you know, that’s boring stuff.”

“No, no,” You smile widely, nearly feeling the heat radiating off of Bucky, “Seven PhD’s? That’s incredible! Tell me more.”

You eat slowly, never taking your eyes off of Bruce as he rattles off a bunch of science terms that you’ve never heard before. Warmth floods through your body as you finally start to feel Bucky’s icy stare. It’s unwavering now. You continue to bat your eyes and laugh and smile, resting your hands on Bruce’s arm and shoulder, only throwing your eyes back toward Bucky every now and again. Every time you make eye contact, his jaw tightens even more. His eyes are nearly black once you’re all finished eating and you’re sure he’s broken a few teeth. 

“Want me to take some plates, guys?” You ask, standing and holding out your hands. 

You step over the seat and throw your hips back and forth as you reenter the house, a proud smirk on your face. You keep your back to the door as you toss the plates and utensils into the trash can, the groups’ voices floating toward you through the screen door. You turn to wash your hands and hear the door open. Before you can turn fully, you’re pulled roughly toward the back of the kitchen, out of view from the door. 

Bucky slams you into the wall, a grunt passing through your lips as pain rips through your body. He grabs your chin, pushing your head against the wall and cranes it up toward his face. Your chest rises and falls quickly as air audibly pushes through your nostrils. You stare back at him, your eyes dipping down to his lips before rejoining his stare. 

“Don’t,” He starts, his voice low, “Play with me. You’ll regret it **.** I promise you.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. He raises his eyebrows at you, fury building in him. You slap his hand away from your face and lean forward, coming nose to nose with him, “Fuck you.” You answer calmly, venom dripping from your words. 

He smirks, his eyes bouncing dangerously between yours, “Mouthy little thing, you are.” He spits back. 

He grabs your wrist again and pulls you from the wall, pushing you roughly toward the stairs. You stumble and fall on the staircase, squealing as he grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet. You struggle against him, pushing back against his hands as he forces you up the stairs from behind. Once you reach the landing, you whirl around and slap him across the face, going in for another before he catches your hands in one of his. 

He pushes you violently, sending you into your bedroom door and crashing to the floor. He grabs you, pulling you to your feet as you protest wildly, ripping and clawing at his chest and face with your hands. 

“Yo, everything okay up there? The hell are you doin?” Sam calls, seconds later. 

Bucky holds your shoulders firmly, squeezing your body to his, daring you to say anything other than you’re fine. You swallow harshly, the same fear from the night before growing in your stomach again as he stares at you. The stubble on his cheeks and chin brushes against your face as you start to shiver, his breath warm on your face. Your eyes are wide and wild as they bounce between his. Without warning, he leans in and bites your bottom lip, pulling back and taking it with him. You squeal from the pain and he lets go, letting your lip snap back to your face.

“Saoirse!” Sam calls again.

“I’m fine Sam. I just tripped over my bag.” You shout back, your eyes never leaving Bucky’s. 

“You see Bucky? The fucker didn’t leave, did he?”

You shake your head as if he can see you, “No, he’s in the bathroom. Said something about the beans.”

You hear Sam laugh and then his footsteps as he moves toward the back door. You bite your lip as you turn your attention back toward the man in front of you, “Good girl.” He whispers.

You smirk. He leans in again, nuzzling his face against yours before his tongue slithers out through his lips. He licks up your chin and lips slowly, his tongue curling upward once it reaches the tip of your nose. You moan softly from the contact and he kisses you deeply, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. He groans lightly, sending a shiver down your spine as your sex begins to throb for the second time of the day. 

You push your hips into his slowly, your wet lips sticking to your denim shorts. He forces your head upward with his as he nuzzles your neck, his lips and teeth scraping along your skin. You push your hand into his hair, grunting as he nips at your skin, your hips grinding against his leg as you hiss. He pops the small silver button on your shorts and unzips your fly before pushing his hand into your pants. He groans as his calloused fingers slide between your wet lips, and he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Filthy girl.” He mumbles, as he cups his dick through his jeans. 

He slips his other hand into your shorts and shimmies them down your thighs, letting them pool at your feet. He turns you away from him, pushing you down to the bed. He hooks his hands around your waist and pulls you up on your knees before sliding his hands back to your waist. He squeezes your flesh in his hands as he moves them along your lower half. He lands a hard slap on your ass, lurching you forward, the sound of the skin to skin contact bouncing off of the walls. 

He pulls you back into his hips and rubs his crotch into your ass before he steps back. You hear the sound of his zipper coming down, your heart lurching into your throat in anticipation. He pushes his hand into your top and slides his fingers around your body. He pinches your nipple in his fingers, tweaking and turning it as he slides his dick along your folds. You slam your eyes shut as he finally pushes into you, your walls spreading as you take him all in. The mattress dips as he presses his knee into it. He pushes your shirt up, freeing your breasts as he starts his slow thrusts, nearly pulling out of you entirely before he sinks all the way back in. 

You groan with each thrust, biting down on your bottom lip to try and stay quiet as he fucks you from behind. He rests his hands on either side of your hips as he bucks into you, guiding you back onto his cock and then pushing you forward again. You grip the thin sheets in your hands and bury your face into the pillows, unable to stifle the noises coming from you. 

He bucks into you hard, much harder than before, and you cry out, your face scrunching in pain. He slams into you again and you howl as he hits your cervix. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls harshly, causing you to squeal as pain prickles at your scalp, “Buck-”

“Shut up.” He growls, “Don’t say another fuckin’ word.”

Chills flood through your veins as his demeanor shifts. He pulls out of you roughly and grabs your thigh, pinching your flesh until you’re whimpering from the pain. He pulls you up, your back flush against his chest as he digs his nose into the side of your face. He grabs your chin again as he bites your earlobe, chuckling as you wail, “I told you you’d regret fuckin’ with me, didn’t I?”

“Bucky,” You whisper as you sob, fear consuming you.

“Did you think you were being cute out there? Huh? Rubbing your titties all over that fucking nerd.” When you hesitate to answer, he tightens his grip on your chin, shaking your head lightly, “Answer me.”

“No.”

“No.” He mocks you, raising his voice an octave, “I think you did. I think you thought you were being cute out there.”

Tears stream down your face as you sniffle, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He laughs. He smiles as his eyes travel along the side of your face, “You need an attitude adjustment. On your knees, now.”

He steps back and you obey him, falling to the hard floor. He pushes his dick against your lips and you accept it without any hesitation, afraid to anger him any further. You bob your head back and forth as he thrusts into your mouth, his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hands tangle in your hair as you suck him off, his fingers pulling your hair every now and again as his eyes flutter shut.

His groans and grunts get louder, his hips moving faster as you feel small spurts of cum slip down your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks as he uses you, all the confidence you had earlier completely slipping away. You question yourself, your motives, cursing yourself for being so stupid. The same emotions that filled you last night course through you now and once again, you’re humiliated. But what’s worse is, you brought this all on yourself. 

He thrusts into you again and comes, his sticky spunk filling your mouth as it erupts from him. You close your eyes as the hot ribbons pour into your mouth, his fingernails scratching at your scalp as his body tenses. Once he’s finished, he steps back, pulling his dick out of your mouth. You swallow, afraid not to, and drop your head as your chin quivers. 

Bucky tucks himself back into his jeans before kneeling down in front of you. He places his index finger underneath your chin and lifts it slowly so you can face him again, “I am always in charge. Understand?” You nod, “ _ I _ take, what  _ I  _ want, when _ I  _ want it, not the other way around.” You nod again, your eyes brimming with tears as you cry softly.

He stands, his heavy boots thumping against the wooden floor as he moves toward the door, “Clean yourself up and get back outside.”

“Yes.” You whimper. 

He disappears seconds later, whistling and smiling to himself as he moves down the stairs, leaving you in a crumpled heap on the floor.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got out of there the minute Bucky took his eyes off you. You thought you were in the clear - until he shows up at your office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another forever has gone by, lol. Part three is an entry for darkficsyouneveraskedfor #athousandwords challenge on tumblr.

It’s been three weeks since you left your brothers home. He called you everyday for a week afterward because your departure was so sudden. You had done exactly what Bucky had said. You cleaned yourself up - wiped away the tears, fixed your hair - and rejoined them outside for the rest of the afternoon. You plastered on a smile, even managed to laugh some even though you were petrified right down to the core of you.

He stared at you the entire time- watching every little movement, every interaction with every person at the table. You were very  _ careful _ for the rest of the evening. When he finally left, you bolted to your room and packed your shit. You kissed Sam hastily on his cheek as a lame excuse fell from your lips as he and Wanda tried to piece together what was happening; why you were so…  _ off _ suddenly. You were in the car and on that country ass highway before they could make too much of a fuss. 

You cried nearly the entire way home. 

The shame filled you again - the  _ embarrassment _ . You gripped the steering wheel hard as you fought through your watery vision, silently thanking God you were on that highway alone. He violated you - twice - and you  _ liked _ it. You deserved every vile thought and feeling that swirled within you. 

You threw yourself into work, arriving earlier than normal and staying way past your designated time. You went out with friends, and the gym became your new favorite hang out. Anything to try and keep your mind off of him. It worked, for a while, but every now and again, late at night as you would stare up at the ceiling, those blue eyes would invade your mind. You could feel his fingers slipping up your thighs… and you’d get disgusted with yourself all over again.

You feel better today - the best you’ve felt since you left if you are being completely honest. You tap away at your computer, shifting your eyes between your two screens as you work on paperwork. The sunlight pours in over your desk from the windows behind you, warming your skin. You hum along with the radio that plays softly. You don’t even really register the roaring of a few motorcycles as they pass by on the street outside. 

You crack your neck before rolling your head back on your shoulders. You grab your water bottle and swallow the last of the cool liquid. Your stomach growls. You glance toward the clock just as it turns 12:32pm -  _ lunchtime _ . You push away from your desk, your water bottle in hand, and move toward the break room, heading straight for the fridge. You grab your chicken salad and pita chips, fill up your water, and head back toward your office. 

You stop, scrunching up your face as your office comes into view. A man sits in one of the two chairs in front of your desk, his fingers drumming on his knees as he glances around. You don’t remember having a meeting today, and especially during your sacred lunch hour. You sigh, groaning inwardly before resuming your professional hue as you step through the threshold.

“Hi.” You start cheerfully as you kick the door softly with your foot to shut it, “I’m sorry, I was just grabbing my lunch. I’m -”

You nearly choke on your words. None other than Bucky Barnes sits in front of you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a smile. You’re frozen in your spot, your mouth going slack as your breath turns shallow. His smirk turns into a broad smile as he gazes at you, his head tilting slightly.

“Sit.” He orders, although softly. 

You plop down into your chair, swallowing harshly as you drop the chicken salad and water to the desk. You stare back at him as your face and body heats up instantly, your hands starting to shake. You grab your fingers and push your thumb into your palm, trying and failing to soothe yourself in his presence. 

“You left without saying goodbye.” You swallow again. Your lips part as if your going to speak but nothing comes out, the words freezing in your throat, “That’s not very nice, Saoirse.”

You blink as his words wash over you like a cold shower. His voice is calm and uncharacteristically warm, but you know better - especially after last time. _ I am always in charge, understand?  _ His words come back to you as if he said them just yesterday. You blink again. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks smoothly, leaning forward, “I’m speaking to you.”

You clear your throat nervously but keep your eyes squarely on his, “I, um, I had to get back. Work was - I just had to get back.” You whisper. 

He nods slowly, puckering his lips. He keeps his eyes on you for a few seconds more before moving them around the room. He falls back into the chair and spreads his legs as he slides his palms down his thighs, “You got a fancy job, huh? Big ol’ office to yourself.”

“It’s not fancy.” You answer quietly, still pushing your thumb into your palm, “It’s boring.”

He smirks as his eyes continue moving around the room until he spots your degree hanging from the wall. You watch him as he stands and moves toward it, shoving his hands in his pockets as he reads aloud, “University of Southern California,” he cuts his eyes back toward you, “That’s why you have all that mouth on you. Too smart for your own good.” 

You swallow hard.

He turns and sits on the edge of the small file cabinets placed against the wall and crosses his arms over her chest, “Stand up, let me see you.” 

You spring to your feet. You avert your eyes from his hungry ones as he drops them to your cleavage and licks his lips inadvertently. You play with your fingers as he drinks you in, his eyes wandering down to your hips and exposed legs before he motions with his index finger for you to turn. You do as you’re prompted and spin on the balls of your feet, stopping once you’re facing away from him. 

You swallow again as your eyes dart around the wall as you’re met with nothing but silence. Your lips part as you  _ feel _ his eyes and his menacing presence swallows up the space in the room. Suddenly, he’s on you. You jump and squeal as he crushes his chest and stomach to your back, one of his arms slinking over your shoulder, the other around your waist.

He digs his nose into your hair as he flattens his palm on your chest, spreading his fingers out over your skin. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your sweet mixture of shampoo and body wash, with a hint of Chanel perfume. 

You stare forward as the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratch your face. You stand frozen as he grips your hip, squeezing your flesh in his large hand as he pushes his hips into your behind. You swallow again. Your head starts to spin as you breathe in his earthy musk. Your breath becomes audible as his fingers slip into your blouse, skipping along your soft skin, dipping down to your nipple. You shudder when his tongue slips along your ear - his teeth then pulling at your earlobe.

Your panties are soaked within seconds. 

He chuckles, swaying the two of you softly as he keeps a hold of your body. He knows you’re his - and he  _ loves _ it. He knows he can treat you with no respect and still get exactly what he’s come for. He’s sunk his teeth into you and has no intentions of letting go. Why would he? You’d beg him to come back the minute he did. 

“You know why I was rough with you last time, right?” He asks softly, “You know what you did was wrong.”

You nod quickly, “Yes.” Your voice is shaky.

“I don’t like having to do that,” he lies, the smile curling onto his lips giving him away, “But you needed to be taught a lesson.”

“I understand, Bucky. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” he coos, kissing you sweetly on your cheek, “No need to apologize. I know you’re sorry and that you won’t do it again, right?”

You nod your head.

“Good,” he kisses you again, “I’m insanely jealous. Nobody touches what’s mine.” 

_ What’s mine.  _ A strange sense of pride ripples through you at the words.  _ What’s mine.  _

Your phone rings loudly from the corner of your desk, shattering the moment, bringing you back to earth. You cut your eyes to it before shifting slightly to get a glimpse of Bucky’s face. You’re asking permission to answer your own phone. He nods his head toward it and releases his tight grip on you. You skip toward the ringing phone, clearing your throat as you bring the receiver to your ear. 

“This is Saoirse Wilson… oh, hi Tom… um,” you glance over at Bucky as he approaches and leans against the corner of your desk, “S-sure,” you stutter, “I have time.” 

You send your eyes quickly to Bucky’s again to gauge his demeanor. He remains even, his breaths deep and rhythmic as he crosses his feet at the ankles. He’s not leaving  _ anytime _ soon. 

You tilt the phone away from your face and cover it with your palm, “He wants me to join this meeting,” you whisper, “It should be quick. Is that, is that okay? I can tell him it’s not a good time.” 

He raises his hand to stop you, “It’s okay smarty pants. Take your meeting.” 

Your thumping heart slows just a tinge as relief floods through you. He’s in an awfully good mood today. You clear your throat again and hit the speaker button, causing Tom’s and few other voices to fill the room. You send your eyes over to Bucky again as he pushes away from your desk, digging in his pocket to pull out loose change. Your eyes move with him as he silently walks out of your office and disappears down the hallway.

“Saoirse,” Tom’s voice cuts into your ears, “You have access cost efficiency spreadsheet, right?”

“I do,” you answer quickly, logging into your computer to open it, “Which month are you looking for?”

Bucky reappears minutes later, a half eaten Mr. Goodbar in his hands. He shuts the door quietly as he enters, his jaws chewing slowly as he moves back to your side of the desk. He pops another piece into his mouth, the peanuts crunching between his teeth as he looks over at you, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

You can’t help but smile back as your nerves start to relax. You’re still a little shaky, your heart still beating rapidly just from being around him but a warmth starts to spread through you. He came to see you. That fills you with that weird sense of pride again. 

You watch as he breaks another piece of his candy bar off and slides toward you, extending his hand. He places the small square just at your lips and blinks at you slowly. You smile up at him, like a puppy who’s just received a bone, and open your mouth to accept his offering. You take it with your teeth, closing your lips around the tips of his fingers gently before you pull away, chewing slowly as the flavor explodes in your mouth.

You keep your eyes on his as you chew, the voices in the background fading into a soft blur as you swallow slowly. He reaches for you again, placing his index finger underneath your chin to lift your head up toward him. He smiles and you could melt into a puddle. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans into you, his warm breath splashing over your face just before he kisses you deeply. You moan into his mouth as his tongue invades yours, sweeping over your bottom lip and teeth. 

He breaks the kiss seconds later and pushes away from the desk to kneel beside you. Your lips part as he starts rubbing your stomach softly, his fingertips brushing along your breasts as his hand moves back and forth. Your breath hitches as you shift in your seat, your eyes wide as lust swells in your chest.

His finger dip to your legs, Bucky walking his index and middle fingers along your bare thigh. He plays with the hem of your skirt, pinching it between his fingers and sliding his fingers along the length. He pushes his hand underneath the black material and slides his palm up your thigh until he hits pay dirt. 

You jump in your seat as his fingers brush against your panties. He smirks as his fingers dance along the wet spot at the front of your panties. You sling your arm over his shoulders as he pushes your skirt up your thighs and you wiggle with the movement to help him bunch the material around your waist. 

The voices from the phone are suddenly loud and distracting as your anticipation builds. You reach for the phone, ready to press the mute button but Bucky stops you. He grabs your wrist and cuts his eyes toward you, shaking his head slowly before placing his index finger to his mouth. You stare back at him as the blood in your veins runs cold.

“I can’t,” you whisper harshly as you adjust in your seat.

“Yes you can. Just be quiet.” 

Your eyes dart back to the phone as your mind races. You want to cum so bad. You want his fingers, his mouth, his dick… you want him to bend you over this desk and fuck you stupid, like he did that night against your car - but not with Tom, Vivian, and Ben listening in. You try to whisper your reluctance again but can’t seem to find the words as his large hand rubs along your lower stomach. You flatten your fingers over the curve of his shoulder as he massages you. The walls of your pussy clench as your arousal heightens. You just want him to  _ touch  _ you.

“Bucky,” you whine.

“Shhh, they can hear you.” He smiles back.

He continues to tease you, rubbing his hand along your stomach and over your panties as the voices through the phone chatter on. You tense, balling your fist as the spikes of your excitement intensify. Your arousal is splashed on either side of your inner thighs, your panties completely stuck to your aching heat. 

“Saoirse? Can you tell me what the projections are for the fourth quarter?”

You jump slightly as your name bounces against your eardrum. Your clear your throat as Bucky chuckles - but his hand never stops roaming, “Umm, I’m sorry, what - um, what are you looking for, again? Sorry.”

Tom clears his throat, annoyed, “The projections. For the fourth quarter.” 

“You did schedule this meeting during lunch,” Vivian pipes in quickly when she picks up on his tone, “Take your time Saoirse.”

You tap at your keyboard as Bucky wraps his other arm around your waist and slides your chair closer to him, “So, projections are up almost thirty percent in the fourth quarter compared to last year.”

“Which was?” Tom asks.

“Last October was at fifty percent.” You answer, closing your eyes as you try and focus.

“Well, shit. Looks like we’re well ahead of the game, kids.” Ben adds as he crunches on his lunch loudly into the phone. 

You let out a soft moan as your eyes flutter when Bucky finally pushes his fingers into your panties. You exhale deeply and let your head fall back onto your chair as his fingers slip between your hot, wet folds. You spread your legs instinctively as your breathing starts to quicken. He massages your clit with his fingers - slowly rubbing circles against it as his other hand squeezes your hip. 

You can feel his eyes washing over you as your hips start to roll into his hand. You gasp when suddenly two fingers are thrust inside of you. You spring forward, gripping his leather jacket in your hand as you bite down on your bottom lip as hard as you can.

“Saoirse? You okay?”

You grunt inwardly as Bucky curls his digits inside of you to scratch against your spongy spot, “Sorry, I uh-“ you clear your throat as you push your hips forward, “Knocked over my water.” 

They buy your excuse and hurry back to talking numbers and projections for your company for the next year. You rock your hips into Bucky’s hand as he pumps his digits inside of you, his eyes shifting from yours back to his hand. 

A shadow flashes in the corner of your eye and you snap your head toward it, freezing in fear as coworkers pass in front of the windows to your office. You squeeze your legs together around Bucky’s hand and straighten up in your chair as your chest heaves. 

Bucky doesn’t stop. He just keeps pumping his fingers into you, licking his lips as he stares up at you. You moan again but cover it quickly by clearing your throat. You’re so wet that you can  _ hear  _ his fingers slipping in and out of you - you just hope that Tom, Vivian, and Ben don’t. 

You lift your eyes toward your window, watching as people buzz around, files in hand, none the wiser to what you’re up to just on the other side of your door. You realize that maybe that’s why you are so turned on. The fact that they are just on the other side of the door, that there are three people on the other end of the phone as you get finger fucked in your office at one in the afternoon. It’s intoxicating. 

Your hips start to move again, pushing into his hand, wanting him deeper. Your eyes close again as a lovely pressure starts to build in your stomach as your pussy clenches around him. Your clit is achy and warm as his palm beats against it with each thrust of his fingers. You let your mouth fall as you open your eyes to slits to watch him fuck you. 

He pries your legs open wide and before you can stop him, his face is pressed to your cunt. Your hands fly to his head as his warm tongue slithers between along your slit. You bite down on your bottom lip as you buck your hips into him, hissing softly as you squeeze his head between your thighs. 

Within minutes, you’re writhing in your chair from sheer ecstasy. Your hips and legs start to burn as your push your hips into his face. Your hips pulse quickly into his mouth and fingers, your breath audible as small squeaks force their way out of your throat. You keep a on hand on his shoulder, the other dug in his dark hair as you fuck his face with reckless abandon. 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he devours your sweet cunt, his cheeks and chin shiny and wet as he forces his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. You feel yourself starting to break, your hips faltering as you get closer and closer to finally getting to cum. Electricity floods through your veins as your pray that the next thrust will tip you over the edge. Sweat pops up on your brow, your legs start to shake, your pussy quivers as your stomach jumps into your throat. 

“Mute it,” Bucky mumbles, knowing you’re close, “I wanna hear you.”

You slam your hand onto the mute button and slide down in your seat as you finally get to let out a loud groan. Your chin quivers as your high pitched moans fill your office. You could cry it feels so good. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you mutter through short, quick breaths, “I’m gonna cum Bucky.”

He moans loudly as he slurps up your juices like a piece of fruit. You throw your leg over his shoulder, not giving a fuck if Tonya from accounting sees you or not. He pumps into you hard and fast and finally pushes you over the edge. Your body jerks as your orgasm flashes through you. You squeal, pushing your head up toward the ceiling as your pussy begins to squirt - soaking your chair, the floor, and Bucky’s face. 

He doesn’t flinch. He just continues to fuck you through it, the sound of your sloppy wetness bouncing off the walls. Your eyes close again as your body tenses and relaxes with the pangs of your release. His fingers slow as your orgasm begins to recede. He kisses the insides of your thighs and runs his tongue along your slit like a dog lapping up water. He kisses your clit and your lower stomach, running his tongue along the band of your panties. 

You slouch in your chair, your eyes hooded, your breath deep and slow. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he laps at you sweetly, cleaning you up. He pulls away from you after what seems like an eternity as your meeting partners start to wrap up. You unmute the phone but keep your eyes on Bucky as he stands and cups your face in his large hands.

You smile stupidly up at him as Tom finally brings the useless meeting to a close, “Thanks for all your help Saoirse. I apologize for getting short with you.”

“It’s no problem,” you coo, not really listening as Bucky leans down and kisses you deeply again. 

You moan as you accept his tongue in your mouth, letting it sweep along the roof of your mouth before it massages yours. He pulls away, smiling softly at you before his warm fingers leave your face. Your face drops as you watch him move around your desk, plucking a few Kleenex from the box to wipe his hands and face.

“Where are you going?” You ask, almost sadly as he grabs his helmet and moves toward the door. 

He stops and moves back to your desk to grab one of your business cards. He tucks it in his back pocket and winks at you, “I’ll be around.”

You take a breath as he walks out of your office and disappears down the hall. You stare blankly at your computer as the roar of a motorcycle sounds from the parking lot. You hope another three weeks doesn’t go by before you can see him again. You glance down seconds later and groan inwardly as you spot the mess you’ve made. 

A sudden smile spreads on your lips. 


End file.
